


Pack of Wolves

by bmnugent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmnugent/pseuds/bmnugent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were five different wolves, but their wolves nonetheless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pack of Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Back with another one! I had this idea a while back. Hope you guys enjoy it! And sorry for any grammar mistakes!

She wasn't surprised to find him here this late in the day. Standing in the doorway of his solar, she watched the way he ran his hands down his tired face, how he set aside pieces of parchment that were unimportant at the moment, how he looked on at the mess that sat about his desk with inattentive eyes. It wasn't easy being the Lord of Winterfell. She knew this much and gave him tremendous credit for keeping it together as long as he had. He was still so young and all the stress was enough to make any sane, young man go crazy. She decided it would be a rather pleasant break from his work if she interrupted now, so she softly knocked against the door frame.

His head shot up from his work and the turmoil on his face seemed to melt away with her arrival. He leaned back in his chair as she took it upon herself to walk into the room, her dress trailing slowly behind her.

"Hard at work," she asked, glancing at all the papers that he had scattered about, most with his name signed at the bottom with a wax sigil of the direwolf, her new sigil, embossed at the bottom. He simply nodded and his elbow had come up to sit against the arm rest of his large, stone throne. "Maybe you should take a break," she offered gently, coming to stand beside his seat. Her hip grazed his hand and he moved his arm, offering her a place upon the large arm rest that could serve as her chair, it was so large.

She perched atop the arm rest and leaned forward, pressing a loving kiss to the top of his head and resting one of her hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently. Testing his personal space had become easier with each day that passed and the stranger she had married just years ago wasn't so much a stranger anymore. He smiled at her touch and allowed his eyes to close, enjoying the way her fingers worked out the knots in his shoulder.

"Cat," he began, but was cut off by a high-pitched giggle and a gasp coming from the doorway.

"Robb," the young girl screeched in terror, her eyes growing wide when the toddler stumbled from her grasp and ran into his father's solar where both of his parents were. "Lord Stark, Lady Stark… I beg forgiveness. He followed you all the way down the corridor. I just couldn't keep up with him," the young girl explained, trying to contain Robb and catch her breath all at once.

The blue-eyed toddler was smiling from ear to ear, stretching out his tiny hands and reaching for his mother who still sat perched up on Ned's seat. Catelyn smiled at the young girl and nodded at her, then pushed herself away from her husband and crouched down where her son stood anxiously.

"Thank you. You may leave him here," she told the young girl, who nodded at Catelyn's demand and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. Catelyn looked down at her son, wide-eyed and cheeks flushed with color. "And you," she teased, gently tapping the tip of his little nose. "Have you come to get your father to rest as well," she asked the baby, who just giggled and reached up for her. She smiled and hoisted her son up into the air, her dress fanning out around her as she spun gently with Robb safely cuddled in her arms. He laughed into her ear and her heart warmed at the sound. Ned sat back at his desk, watching with a small smile. Motherhood had softened her, if it was possible, and he loved it. She was always smiling, always making their son giggle, always fretting over his safety. He loved her all the more for it, though.

She walked back to her spot and when Robb saw his father behind the desk, reached out for him with tiny fists. Ned smiled and accepted his son into his arms. The toddler reached up with curious hands and his tiny fingers spread against Ned's cheek. Ned was quick to grab his son's hand, press a gentle kiss to the palm, and set his son up on his lap, so both Stark men could get a view of the work that sat before them.

"Tell your mother you haven't come to relieve me. You've come to help me finish this." The toddler bounced in his lap and reached out to grab the parchments that lay just inches from his face. Catelyn smiled down at her two men and leaned down to kiss the top of Robb's head, which was covered in a mess of auburn hair.

Her husband was next and she placed the gentlest kiss upon his lips, her hand coming up to frame his cheek as well.

"Teach our son well," she whispered against his lips, before pressing another kiss once more, and leaving the solar quietly.

...

Catelyn fussed with her daughter only for a moment, trying to dress the young girl in a light dress and brush out her long hair. She was fidgeting on the stool that she sat upon, constantly looking back at her bedchamber door. Catelyn knew all too well why her daughter couldn't keep still and she smiled at Sansa's eagerness.

"Love, your father isn't going to go to the Godswood without you." Sansa sighed and turned back in her chair to face the glass mirror that hung in front of her. She had been looking forward to it all day. Her father would take her and Robb to pray with him in the Godswood every so often and today was her turn to go with him. She knew her mother didn't particularly care to go with them, but Sansa loved walking across the vast yard with her father, stepping into the dense woods and seeing the tiny creatures scurry past her, how the red leaves of the tree shimmered and glowed in the sun.

She watched with an intense gaze as her mother made work of her soft auburn hair; twisting and braiding and pinning it all into place. She ran her eyes over her mother's features and awed at just how beautiful she was, only hoping that one day she would be as beautiful as her mother. Before Sansa knew it, her hair was fixed and her mother was standing back to admire her work.

"Mother," Sansa whispered, turning around and coming to stand carefully on the stood she was just sitting on. Her mother still towered over her and Sansa reached out for her hands to steady herself on the stool. It was something mother didn't like, but she just gave Sansa a look that made her giggle.

"Sansa," Catelyn whispered back.

"You're really pretty," the little girl admitted shyly. A blush rushed to Catelyn's face and she looked down at her daughter with love in her eyes. This little girl had brought nothing but happiness into her life since the day she was born. She reached up and cupped her little girl's cheek. "Do you think I'll be as pretty as you are when I grow up," she asked with a hopefully smile, her blue eyes a pure copy of Catelyn's.

She opened her mouth to praise her daughter, telling her exactly the truth, in that she would grow up to be the most beautiful girl in all of the Seven Kingdoms, but her husband's voice cut her off from behind and the two Stark women straightened out.

"Just as beautiful," Ned promised, walking into the room and coming to crouch down to get eye level with his daughter, who gave him a bright, loving smile. "Are you ready," he asked her and she nodded, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. He laughed and held his daughter close, pressing a kiss to the temple of her head and then placing her down on the ground to walk beside him.

He reached for his wife, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips and then walking out with their daughter to pray in the Godswood.

The walk there didn't take long and Sansa had remained quiet until they were alone. Ned was always careful to let Sansa walk in front of him, with hidden roots and sunken holes in the ground to be aware of. He would never let anything happen to this little girl that Catelyn had blessed him with. When she was safe and seated upon a flat rock that overlooked the dark pool in front of the white tree, Ned knelt on the ground and began to recite the prays in his head. He thanked the Gods for his strength and wisdom, for Catelyn, for Robb and Sansa, for the health of King Robert and his children, and for the safety of Winterfell.

He stood from the ground when he was finished and turned to find his daughter still deep in prayer, and suddenly, he knew that he had no greater duty than to love and protect this little girl, along with the rest of his family, with his life. Her little eyes opened when she finished praying and Ned smiled down at her, and then took a seat next to the rock she was perched on.

"Why doesn't mother ever pray with us," she asked softly, pulling her legs up and resting her chin against her knees. The question caught him off guard.

"Your mother prays to different Gods."

The little girl grew silent and it almost looked as if she were plotting something in her head.

"Do you love her," Sansa asked, innocence blinding him.

"With all of my heart. Just as much as I love you and your brother," he added, reaching up to tuck a piece of her auburn hair behind her tiny ears.

"Mother needs a place to pray, too," she spoke aloud, her thoughts spilling from her like they do for every young child. The words hit him suddenly.

"Well that's why I'm going to build her a sept." Sansa's eyes lit up and she stood atop her rock. "Do you think she would like that?" The little girl nodded frantically and nearly jumped from the rock into her father's arms.

...

"I want to go too," Arya shouted, watching her father and older brother gear themselves for the hunt. It was Robb's first time going out into the dense woods beyond Winterfell's walls and Arya wanted nothing more in the world than to go with them.

"Arya," Catelyn finally spoke, while she skillfully passed a needle and thread through one of her daughter's torn dresses. Arya had been nothing short of handful since the day she was born, but Catelyn loved her none the less for it. She had been the wild one of the three children and Catelyn couldn't help but see a bit of Brandon in her; so wild and brave, almost fearless. "You are far too young."

"But Robb's going! I'm not that much younger than him," she cried, peeking out through the stone window and down toward the stables where her father and older brother were preparing to mount their horses. "Father will let! I know he will if you ask him," she tried to persuade her mother, but Catelyn was having none of it. She set down the dress and needle when the rip had been mended, but by the time she had stood up from her chair, Arya had bolted through the door. "Arya Stark!"

Catelyn was quick to follow her out the room, chasing her down the corridor, through the Great Keep, across the courtyard, and to the stables where she found her daughter dancing around Robb's horse, reaching on her tiptoes and whispering to her brother to convince their father to let her accompany them on the hunt.

Ned had spun around and was confused upon seeing his wife standing before him, slightly out of breath and with her eyes fixed on something behind his horse. He spotted his daughter, begging Robb for something, and called out her name loudly, making her freeze in her place by the horse.

Arya turned and gave her father a guilty frown, but was running up to him soon after, her grey eyes begging.

"Please let me come with you. I promise not to get in the way." Ned tilted his head and his eyes rose to meet Catelyn's, who nearly read his mind.

'She's too young, Ned. By the grace of Gods, if you tell her yes…'

He knelt before his daughter, resting his arms against his thighs to steady himself on the balls of his feet. Arya shifted nervously under his stare, but kept eye contact all the while, awaiting her answer.

"Arya… your mother is right." The disappointment on her face was enough to break his heart. "If you were but a few years older, then maybe… but not today," he decided, reaching out to gently squeeze her shoulder. The girl nodded slowly and turned away from her father, walking into her mother's arms. The two Stark women walked across the courtyard, but something had caught Catelyn's attention.

The armory was just ahead and she could see clearly all the new bows that were being forged, some hanging up against the wall and ready to be tested. Catelyn had suddenly stopped walking and Arya continued for a moment until she realized her mother was no longer by her side. She turned at once and found her mother eyeing the armory, then looked back at her with a smile that sent nothing but pure happiness through Arya's bones.

The young girl raced for the armory with her mother trailing behind close. She hopped over the bale of hay that stood by the door and her eyes caught glimpse of all the helms, swords, shields, bows, and arrows that stood proudly, ready to be used if need be. When the young boy who had been stacking the bows caught glimpse of Arya and Catelyn, stopped what he was doing and straightened out.

"Lady Stark, Lady Arya," he spilled his courtesies nervously, but Catelyn gave him a warm smile that seemed to ease him a bit.

"Tyden," her mother spoke. "Would you be so kind and hand me one of those bows with a full quiver?" Arya's eyes lit up at the words. She couldn't imagine her Lady Mother with a bow and arrow, but what she had planned was still a mystery. The young boy scurried about and handed Catelyn a long bow, carved out of dark wood and a leather quiver that was full of the sharpest arrows Arya had ever seen. "Thank you."

Her mother peered down at her and without a word, walked from the armory to the practice grounds where she had watched Robb shoot straw targets dozens of times. Arya climbed onto the wooden gate, her tiny feet slipping through the gaps and her fingers gripping the top board of the rough, wooden gate.

"You may be too young to hunt with them," her mother began, pulling an arrow out from the quiver and displaying it in front of her daughter to see, with wide grey eyes. "But you're not too young to start practicing." And before she knew it, her mother had pulled the arrow back against the tight string, aimed, and fired at the straw target that lay yards away from her. Arya's mouth hung open and when her mother turned back, laughed.

"How did you learn to do that," she asked in amazement, watching as her mother stretched out her hand to offer the bow to her.

"Your grandfather taught me." Arya accepted the bow, testing the weight of it in her hand. It was a bit heavy, but she held it up as best as she could for her mother to see. "And now I'll teach you."

...

He was climbing into their bed, his chest bare and gleaming in the dim light that came from the fire that was burning across the room. He lifted the covers and settled in besides her, lifting an arm for her to cuddle up to him and rest her head against his chest. His arm came down over her and his hand played in her hair, causing her to sigh against his bare skin.

"Your son has learned the gest of climbing the roofs of Winterfell," she murmured, his touch slowly putting her to sleep.

"Gods," Ned whispered, shaking his head slowly.

...

Thunder clapped above the castle and flashes of light illuminated the dark sky outside. Catelyn stood at the window, her hand clutching her sheer robe together. The wind began to blow harder and pieces of her long hair began to swirl around her head. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The smell of salt was in the air and for a moment, she thought that if she were to open her eyes, she'd be standing in her old bedchambers at Riverrun.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist from behind and she opened her eyes truly, finding herself in Winterfell with Ned's strong arms wrapped around her. And even though she missed Riverrun, she knew there was no other place she rather be than here.

Her expression softened and she turned her head to meet his as his hands began to gently pry hers away from the robe that kept her body hidden from his. She let out a small laugh when his hand passed over her hip and she arched her back into him. He pulled her away from the window slowly and led her to the bed, where they both crawled in. She cuddled up to him, her head resting against his chest and his arm went around her. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off into a peaceful sleep, knowing her husband was safe next to her and her children were just a few paces away.

Halfway through the night, thunder roared above the castle and Catelyn's eyes shot open. The fire had gone out long ago and the only light in their room came from the flashes of lightning outside. The wind howled and made a bone chilling sound throughout the castle, but somehow, Ned managed to sleep through it all. His arms were still around her and held her protectively against his chest. She snuggled further into his arms and pulled their fur covers further up her body.

"Mother," came a soft plea from her door and suddenly, the fur covers were being shoved down her body and Ned's arms were gone from around her waist. She sat up in the bed at once, her eyes narrowing to focus in the dark. Rickon was standing in the doorway, clutching a toy, stuffed wolf to his chest. She crawled from the bed and Ned awoke instantly, propping himself up on his elbows and watching his wife cross their room with one hand reached out towards the wooden night stand beside their bed that held a dagger inside.

"What's wrong, my love," she crouched down in front of him and Ned's hand relaxed, realizing it what his son who stood in the doorway of their bedchamber. The little boy walked into his mother's arms at the sound of thunder and buried his head into her shoulder. She whispered soothing words into his ear and effortlessly swept him up into her arms, walking back to the bed where Ned sat propped up against the headboard. Ned gave her a look of disapproval when Rickon climbed into the bed, but his look melted away when his youngest son crawled to him and clung to him for dear life as lightning flashed once more.

"You're alright now," Ned whispered, stroking back his son's thick hair and pulling the fur around Rickon's tiny body as Catelyn perched herself up on the edge of the bed, sleep long forgotten. In the safety of his father's arms, Rickon had soon slumbered away and was lightly snoring by the time the storm outside had ceased for good. Ned had cradled his son in his arms and Catelyn led the way through the dim castle back to Rickon's room, where Shaggydog laid at the foot of Rickon's bed. The wolf stood, stretched, and circled Ned until he placed Rickon back into his own bed, where the wolf then jumped and curled around Rickon's tiny body, his large head resting over Rickon's stomach in a protective manner. Catelyn had bent at the waist, placing a gentle hand atop Shaggydog's head while pressing a kiss to her son's cheek.

They left silently, closing the door behind them after one last lingering look at their youngest son. The walk back to their bedchamber included a peek into the rest of their children's room.

Bran and Summer were both tucked into the linen sheets, Summer's head resting atop a pillow almost humanlike. Arya and Nymeria were sprawled atop the bed, fur and covers shoved to the edge of the bed in the midst of their slumber. Sansa and Lady slept peacefully in Sansa's bed, one facing the other with their heads together on one large pillow. Robb was shifting in his sleep, his eyes fluttering with the first lights of dawn pouring through his window. Grey Wind lay at the edge of his bed, his head and ears perked up when the door opened, but he soon calmed when it was Ned and Catelyn's faces that he saw.

"Our pack of wolves," Catelyn whispered as they shut Robb's door, retreating back to their own bedchamber hand in hand. He huffed low in amusement and held their door open for her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she ducked underneath him to get into their room.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Bran's part in the story is really short, but I couldn't make myself write about his climbing. It would hurt my little heart too much. LOL. I'm sorry if the idea sucks. I thought each Stark child having a defining moment with both of their parents would be something cool to write about. Let me know if you enjoyed!


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